


marks of war

by shiningjedi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Caring For One's Lady, Graphic Description of Injury, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningjedi/pseuds/shiningjedi
Summary: The first battle of Geonosis was costly.  Jedi died. Clones died. Anakin and Obi-wan were injured.And so is Padmé, torn by the acklay that she fought with her own chain.Dormé worries; it's her job.  So is tending her - in life and in death.





	marks of war

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Padmé After AOTC](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/347184) by Shilo. 



> This was inspired by an artwork by @ghastlyshilo on tumblr.

“My lady Padmé! I had seen the holonews, I was  _so worried_...”

She trailed off as she came to stand fully at the door, eyes widening and head shaking against her will, as she observed the way the Senator held herself stiffly upright, face taught and neutral, although it dimpled with a slight, toothless smile as she nodded and returned her greeting.

Dormé rushed up to her, nodding gratitude and dismissal to the two strange beings clad in white armour –  _they must be the new Republic soldiers that the news was talking about_  – who had escorted her to her apartment.

She reached out a hand, and Dormé took it, kissing it and gently guiding her into her outer room, closing the door with a snap.

Without being prompted, Padmé lifted the cloak Dormé recognised as a casual spare, still in use from her tenure as queen, to reveal a tightly bound back and side. “It was a trained animal, in that arena – I think that it’d been mistreated. The clone troopers looked after me.” They stopped walking as they crossed into the next room – there was already a comfortable chair and a medkit ready. Padmé gave her a fondly bemused look.

“You know how I worry for you, ma’am.” Tenderly, Dormé stripped off the bled-through field bandages, noting once more Padmé’s set, expressionless face. “Does it not hurt, my lady?”

She hissed out a laugh between her teeth, face twisted into a grimace with the pain. “It hurts like  _Shiraya’s fucking tides_ *, Dormé, but I’d be dammed if I’d let that get in the way of my doing the right thing.”

Dormé made an upset face as well, managing to look scolding as she dipped a swab in sanitiser and pressed it gently to the side of one of the gashes. Padmé gave a little gasp, tensing up her body, and Dormé wished greatly that she didn’t have to do this. It was a great honour, of course it was, to be tending to her lady, but part of her still regretted having to be the one to cause her any pain. Out loud she merely said “I suppose by ‘doing the right thing’ you mean ‘risking depriving your planet of a skilful, passionate, extremely-loved Senator’, my lady.”

Padme groaned, starting to twist away on reflex and then stopping herself halfway; Dormé noticed that she was digging her filthy, blood-tarnished fingernails onto the back of the impeccable power-blue sofa. She hoped that it brought her some small relief. “I prefer – _ouch_  – I prefer to call it ‘aggressive negotiations’.”

Dormé sighed, laying the swab aside to be disposed of later, dipping her hands into the sanitiser again, and picking picking up a bacta strip. “Of course you do, ma’am.”

Padmé chuckled again, more genuine this time. “I didn’t come up with that, Dormé; Anakin Skywalker told me.”

Dormé showed no signs of reacting to the name, studiously ignoring the way Padmé had flushed lightly as she had said it. She wished her lady happiness, but her breath still caught in her throat every time she saw her, and at night she still pictured her lady in her arms, warm and safe and –

 _Now, that’s enough, young lady_ , she told herself sternly, and got back to business.

 

 

Padmé wore the scars proudly as long as Dormé knew her, never accepting dresses designed especially to cover up the marks of her fight.

When she learned about her from the holonews once again – this time that she had died mysteriously – the first thing Dormé did after she dried her eyes was fly home to Naboo and make certain, with her six sisters, that the bier-flowers were arranged correctly – star-blooms for royalty and length of service, white ribbon-tendrils for motherhood and martyrdom – none truly doubted that their lady had been assassinated on the orders of the new Emperor – and the golden blossoms of an honoured warrior.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Shiraya is the Naboo goddess of the moon - Padmé worshipped her in the EU.
> 
> Comments are wonderful, if you're feeling generous!


End file.
